


Make Me Wanna Die…

by bamby0304



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Blood Kink, Breathplay, F/M, Female Ejaculation, Hair-pulling, Knifeplay, Semi-Public Sex, Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-10
Updated: 2018-12-10
Packaged: 2019-09-15 12:11:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16933038
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bamby0304/pseuds/bamby0304
Summary: Hunting demons is part of the job. Hunting someone you know… someone you knew… that makes it a little complicated. It doesn’t help that the green eyes that used to make you swoon, now turned a black that made you want to die…





	Make Me Wanna Die…

**_Warnings_ : Smut. Unprotected sex. The slightest hint of dub-con (just to cover my ass). Hair pulling. Slight public indiscretions. Female ejaculation. Blood play. Knife play. Breath play. Is that everything?**

**Bamby**

Evil lurks in places you would never imagine and tries to charm its way into your life. It watches from the shadows, eyes leering, white teeth grinning knowingly. It corrupts, tempts, pulls you into the darkness and holds you there until you’re no longer screaming in terror… but screaming for more.

If you’d known all this, you might not have gone after him. Dean Winchester. You knew the name. Knew the man- at least you used to. Knew the risk- at least you thought you did.

Being a hunter, you were used to all the monsters that when bump in the night. You weren’t scared of them. You weren’t scared of much. But when you set eyes on him, you found out you weren’t as fearless as you thought.

Slowly, he turned as he stood by the bar, a glass of dark amber liquid in his hand. He knew you were there, of course. His eyes squinted slightly, knowingly. They found you through the crowd of the room. They locked on to you. Trailed your every move as you walked over to the other end of the bar, in the shadows.

With your head ducked, you looked down at your hands as they sat on the bar. You took a moment to think about what you were doing, and what you were going to do. Were you going to kill him? Or were you going to call Sam?

You weren’t aware of it yet… but there was a third option. A more dangerous and tempting option. An option so wrong, it felt so right. An option you shouldn’t take… but would.

For the next few hours the two of you played this little game. You both watched each other, in the corner of your eyes, never meeting each other’s gaze as you both tried not to be so obvious about what you were doing. For you, it was for survival. For Dean, it was for entertainment.

You were well aware of his new status. You knew about the mark on his arm and what it had done to him. He may have killed Abaddon, the last Knight of Hell, but when Metatron killed him Dean hadn’t stayed dead. Instead, he’d been reborn, having come back as the same thing the mark was meant to kill. Dean was a demon.

With this new status it wouldn’t take much for him to kill you. Over the course of your hunting career you’d dealt with a few demons, but none like him, none you’d ever known before. This was different, harder and complicated… and he knew it.

He knew you would find it hard. Find it hard to build up the courage to look past the green eyes you’d once swooned over. Find it hard to focus on the cold black that stared back now… the same black that should shake you to your core in all the worst ways, and yet they didn’t.

Dean may be a demon, but he still had the face, body and voice of the man you’d once looked up to, the one you’d befriended over the years, and one you had grown to feel for. He was the closest thing to a crush you’d had in well over a decade.

It was a killer to think you’d have to hurt him. But then again, it was a killer to think the man you’d cared about for so long now walked the Earth with only one purpose… to inflict unimaginable pain and torture.

Movement caught your eye. Dean was leaving, heading for the side exit that led to the line of motel rooms connected to the bar.

Without a second thought, you got up and moved across the room, following him out into the darkened parking lot. You probably should have paused and really taken in what you were doing, maybe then you would have been better prepared for what was to come. Maybe you wouldn’t have made any foolish mistakes if you’d just waited, even for just a second more. But you hadn’t…

The second you were outside, Dean had you pinned against the wall, your cheek pressed against the cool and rough bricks. One hand held up by your head as his fingers wrapped around your wrists, the other hand was pushed against your back in an awkward position that had you freeze in fear of causing yourself any damage. His body was close, it’s heat brushing against you.

Part of you wondered, with how close he was, if he could hear your heart hammering in your chest. The other part of you was too stubborn to let your fear bubble to a boil, and instead made you focus on glaring at him as his face leaned in closer.

“What are you doing here?”

“What’s it look like?” you spat back, unable to help yourself. Just because you were scared doesn’t mean you were going to roll over.

He chuckled lightly, his voice a little rougher and darker than usual, which made your heart pound slightly harder… but not out of fear. “You should know better. Didn’t Sammy tell you to leave me alone? That’s what I told him to do,” he noted.

Sam had told you about the small note Dean had left behind. But no one was going to listen to the few rushed handwritten words of a man who had come back from the dead. Especially not when that same man was now a demon.

“We’re not giving up on you, Dean.”

Your voice was softer, a gentle plea behind your words. You weren’t just scared of Dean, you were scared _for_ him. He’d been a friend in the past, he’d been there for you when you needed the help, it was only fair you were here for him now.

There was a pause as Dean looked you over, still holding you against the wall with a grip so tight if you didn’t know any better you’d think you were chained. There was no getting out of his grasp. There was no comparing your strength to his. If he wanted you dead he’d kill you.

But he hadn’t.

The silence had stretched on for a moment longer than you thought it would have. Yet, here you were, still standing there with Dean holding onto you. You wondered what he was waiting for. Maybe he was thinking about what to do with you? Or _to_ you? Maybe he was enjoying the torture you were experiencing the longer he stayed there, silent and unmoving? Maybe he was giving you a moment to try something yourself? Beg? Fight? Cry?

“I can hear your heart beat.” Dean’s voice cut through the silence. There was a smug tone to his words, but for the most part he sounded serious… and curious. “I can practically feel the adrenaline coursing through your veins. But you’re not as scared as you should be.”

Unable to stop yourself, you gulped. Denial tried to creep its way into your system, taking over everything else you were feeling, but as if he was aware of your body’s own defence mechanism kicking into gear, Dean’s moved.

He let go of your wrist caught between your bodies, and brought it up to brush your hair away from you shoulder, his fingertips grazing your skin ever so slightly, both so deliciously.

You both felt the moment there was a change.

Denial flooded away, replaced by a primal need and heat that you had no control over. It was wrong, and it was dangerous, but it was taking over every nerve and cell in your body and you found yourself drowning

Leaning in closer, Dean’s eyes looked over your body as his face loomed in towards yours, that smug grin slipping into place so perfectly. He looked so much like the Dean you knew, but at the same time he didn’t Even now, with his green eyes shining bright, you could see the demon in them. You could see the demon all over him.

“If I didn’t know any better I’d say you’re enjoying yourself a little too much there, sweetheart.” Chuckling lightly, he let the fingers of his free hand brush against your neck again as his breath fanned against your ear and cheek. “You know, I’ve always had a thing for you. Never had the guts to do anything about it.”

An involuntary whimper escaped your lips as your eyes fluttered closed and your body jumped a little.

“Tell me you want this and we can forget about killing each other.” He leaned in even closer, his body pressing against yours. All his heat surrounded you, smothering you. “Just say the word. One small word, that’s all it’ll take. No one has to die tonight.”

By now you were drenched. Drowning in everything Dean, feeling his own desire grow against your back as his hips began to grind against you. Hell, you were almost humping the wall yourself now, feeling a deep and desperate hunger like nothing you’d ever felt before. It was festering in your core, crying and begging for attention. Like a wild beast screaming to be fed.

For years you’d pictured yourself withering underneath Dean. Imagined riding him until you both cried out in climax. Dreamed of rolling around in bed, each trying to dominate and pleasure the other. For years most- if not all- your sexual fantasies had revolved around him.

To give in now would be easy. To say the word and let him take you… it would be a literal dream come true. You could do it. You could let all your morals and instincts fall away just for a moment, just for this. You could forget about everything you knew and everything you’d been taught. You could let yourself be a little selfish for the first time in who knows how long.

You wanted to. Of course you wanted to. Who wouldn’t? Demon or not, Dean was a beast. He practically dripped sex appeal every second of every day. For as long as you’d known him he’d been a chick magnet, and he knew it which was aggravating and even hotter. He knew how to work the crowd, how to please someone, how to press the right buttons. He knew what he was doing.

If he hadn’t been pressed up against you, if you hadn’t been able to feel the bulge pressing against your ass, you might have thought about all the consequences of the situation and your decision. But it seemed you’d already talked yourself into it…

“Yes.”

* * *

Dean pushed you into the room, kicking the door shut as he stalked towards you, that hungry predatory look in his eyes. The instant his hands reached you he had you pushed against the dresser, his lips crashing onto yours in a bruising kiss that left you breathless and dizzy.

You each pulled and tugged at clothing, not hearing the sound of material tearing and ripping as you hurriedly undressed each other. In that moment you didn’t care if all your clothes were completely destroyed. All that mattered was getting naked and feeding you desire for each other.

When Dean stopped kissing you, pulling back, you were a little worried and very disappointed. You whimpered at the loss of his lips hungrily pressing against yours between the nips and tugs of his teeth. You tried to follow his hands as they stopped their frantic movements and instead fell away from you. Your eyes looked into his, trying to convey everything you were feeling and needing in that moment.

But Dean didn’t meet your gaze, instead he reached forward, slowly and carefully, tucking your knife from where it was tucked into your jeans- which he’d managed to undo but not remove.

Neither of you spoke as Dean held the knife, the blade catching the light from outside as he turned it in his hand. Your racing heart picked up a little more, but you were surprised to discover it still wasn’t out of fear… but instead it was due to increased arousal.

As if he knew what you were thinking a feeling, Dean looked up, his eyes locking onto yours as a grin just as dangerous as the weapon in his hands stretched onto his lips.

Words were forgotten as he reached forward yet again. You held your breath, squeezed your legs together, and watched as he brought the blade to the last remaining pieces of your clothing.

Grasping at the bottom of your undershirt with one hand, Dean used the other to tear at the cloth with the knife, bringing it all the way up until there was no more shirt to cut into. Next was your bra… but he took his time.

The tip of the blade dragged against your skin, raising goosebumps along its trail as he let the cool metal tiptoe along while his eyes took in your form. The way the hunger grew in his gaze… the way he hungrily appreciated every inch of skin on display… by the time he cut the bra off with one swift and smooth flick of the wrist, you were a mess.

Jeans and panties were a blur after that. Neither of you could wait a second more. Neither of you could be bothered with the tedious foreplay you’d bothered to fool around with tonight. All you wanted, and all you needed, was to feel him fill you completely and absolutely.

Once you were both undressed you couldn’t stop yourself from grabbing his bare shoulders and pulling him to you. He grunted and groaned as you crashed your lips onto his in a messy kiss that both of you needed. Your hands reached around, clawing and digging into his back as you tried to drown in the kiss as much as possible.

Dean pushed away, grabbing you by the waist and turning you around so suddenly you barely had a second to breath before he had you bent over ever so slightly so he could enter you from behind.

You watched him in the mirror of the dresser, watching him pounded hard and fast as his eyes stared intently at where you were connected. You watched him, never tearing your eyes off his form as sweat glistened against his toned body. The red neon light outside shone into the room, adding to the already heated and desired mood.

Bodies slapping against bodies, you pressed and pushed back just as much as he thrusted and slammed forward. His hands gripped onto your hips, yours fingers curling around the edges of the wooden dresser. Bruising and rough, hair stuck to sticky skin, breaths coming out as ragged pants too shallow and short to be doing either of you any good.

Neither of you paid any mind to anything other than your connected bodies and desperate pleasure. You both needed to get to the peak as soon as possible, your bodies crying out for the release you were chasing.

Out of all the times you’d imagined having sex with Dean, you never imagined it to be this rough, this wild, this needy. You never imagined you’d see that dark look in his eyes that wanted to eat you up right then and there. He was like an animal, staking its claim, marking its territory, taking what it wants.

It drove your pleasure on, knowing you were instilling these feelings and desires. You felt powerful, incredible and needed.

When Dean suddenly grabbed your hair and tugged you back, you yelp. But you didn’t miss the way you clenched around his hot, thick cock as he continued to push into you as deep and hard as he could. What he did next though… that was even better.

Eyes tearing away from your body, he met your gaze in the mirror as he brought his hand around to your throat.

The sounds you both made were animal. His hand stayed wrapped around your neck, sitting there without squeezing, but still triggering pleasure from the fear and knowledge that he had complete control over the situation.

Eye still connected to yours, he leaned in closer, bringing his lips to your shoulder as his fingers began to add a little pressure, increasing your pleasure. His teeth nipped at your skin, his other hand digging into your hip.

You couldn’t talk. Neither of you could. All you could do was let the moans, groans, grunts and every other noise slip from your lips as you both got closer and closer to the edge of your climax.

When you were right there, right on the edge, ready for the last push, you found yourself bitting at your lip. It was too much. All too much. Before you could stop yourself, you broke the skin. Blood rolled down as your teeth dug into your lip harder and harder, your body shaking and vibrating with the need for that one last push.

Dean’s eyes connected to that single drop of blood, watching as it fell from you chin and down between your breasts.

That one thing, that single sight, suddenly had the last of his walls and resolves break down. His grip on your throat tightened as his hips shifted so he hit every perfect little spot that made you wanna scream. He slammed into you with a force so strong you were surprised it didn’t break the dresser… or you.

He was close, very close. He was right there, right by the edge. He could easily fall over without you, leave you waiting, needing, begging for your own release…but he didn’t. Instead he made one more change, one that he was sure would drive you over right along with him.

Still thrusting into you with reckless abandon, your eyes locked, you watched as the green you knew so well changed right before you. From the colour you dreamt about, to the black that filled your nightmares. Dean’s demon eyes stared into yours.

A scream erupted from your lips as you tumbled into your orgasm, your core clenching around him, forcing him out as you gushed all over him, unable to stop the fluids squirting out of you as your body shook so uncontrollably and violently, you lost your footing.

Dean was right there, holding onto you, holding you up as you both rode out your orgasms.

When everything slowed you found yourself feeling very sensitive. Ever brush of skin would cause your body to shake with residue pleasure. Just the sound of Dean breathing had your core clenching around nothing. It was all too much, and yet it was barely anything.

Still unable to move yourself, too weak and strung out, you were surprised to find yourself being lifted by strong arms. You tried to ignore the pleasure it invoked as you instead tried to curl into him to sleep. When he set you on the soft sheets on his bed you were even more surprised to find him laying down beside you.

Carefully, lazily, you opened your eyes and met his once more.

They were green again. The heat was gone, but the demon was still there, you could see it. He was still the same Dean he’d been all night. Your actions hadn’t magically cured him- not that you thought they would.

What had changed though, was the fact that part of you- albeit a small part- craved the black that had stared into your gaze as you reached what had to be the biggest and best orgasm of your life.

No, this did not mean you no longer wanted to cure him, or that you had forgotten just how dangerous this Dean could be. It just meant that you no longer cared. In fact, in some kind of sick but also delicious way… they made you _want_ to die.

**Bamby**


End file.
